[ Chaos reigns as the shrine monster rips fleshy roots, rock, and decomposed corpse bits from the cavern floor, knocking out chunks of ceiling in it's escape. The whispers have gone abruptly silent, a brief reprieve like being dropped into an Olympic swimming pool sized ice bath.
Cas can't stop to process the horror of what he's enacted, just runs for a place to help, while the lucid moment lasts. pulling at vines, he's resigned to staying behind (penance, for what he's wrought on the pit, on this world), with Ciri's makeshift bomb set to blow the viscous bulb apart. The explosion rips through the cavern, pulsating bloom splattering him with spores and goo, and the shockwave flings Cas back against a rock wall like a ragdoll. His head cracks against stone, and Castiel's down for the count.
He wakes in the horizon with a mind on fire. lacking wherewithal to imagine himself into any other than his reality, fever and chills still shake him, cracks across his pale, clammy skin producing clumps of mold and spindly roots that weave around his arms. He'd already been deeply consumed by the ritual sickness before the scramble for escape began. Clothes caked in filth and gunpowder, torn where he'd ripped away material for bandages, with blood, dirt and now spore goo coagulated in his hair. blinking open reddened eyes, he only sees the Horizon sky, the Singularity off in a peripheral corner.
A voice breaks through the shrill ringing in his ears, the deafening, thick fog in his mind. ]
Hello?
[ Cas croaks, tilting his field of vision towards the source. Head swimming, the scenery around him is utterly unfamiliar, but within it, a bobbing swath of pink around a humanoid figure. No one he recognizes, not one of the lost from the pit. Escape, he realizes, even if only to the Horizon, but that simple displacement is pennies from heaven with all that's wracking his body and mind. Cas shifts, rolling onto his side, struggling to push himself up as he heaves for air, single-minded in his drive to follow that voice. What is the maddest thing a mad can do in life? Let himself die. ]
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Cas can't stop to process the horror of what he's enacted, just runs for a place to help, while the lucid moment lasts. pulling at vines, he's resigned to staying behind (penance, for what he's wrought on the pit, on this world), with Ciri's makeshift bomb set to blow the viscous bulb apart. The explosion rips through the cavern, pulsating bloom splattering him with spores and goo, and the shockwave flings Cas back against a rock wall like a ragdoll. His head cracks against stone, and Castiel's down for the count.
He wakes in the horizon with a mind on fire. lacking wherewithal to imagine himself into any other than his reality, fever and chills still shake him, cracks across his pale, clammy skin producing clumps of mold and spindly roots that weave around his arms. He'd already been deeply consumed by the ritual sickness before the scramble for escape began. Clothes caked in filth and gunpowder, torn where he'd ripped away material for bandages, with blood, dirt and now spore goo coagulated in his hair. blinking open reddened eyes, he only sees the Horizon sky, the Singularity off in a peripheral corner.
A voice breaks through the shrill ringing in his ears, the deafening, thick fog in his mind. ]
Hello?
[ Cas croaks, tilting his field of vision towards the source. Head swimming, the scenery around him is utterly unfamiliar, but within it, a bobbing swath of pink around a humanoid figure. No one he recognizes, not one of the lost from the pit. Escape, he realizes, even if only to the Horizon, but that simple displacement is pennies from heaven with all that's wracking his body and mind. Cas shifts, rolling onto his side, struggling to push himself up as he heaves for air, single-minded in his drive to follow that voice. What is the maddest thing a mad can do in life? Let himself die. ]
Hello!